was i blind for so long
by eriksxgal
Summary: Which is the right choice and which is the wrong? The moral and the immoral? The good and the bad? Christine doesn't know any of these, for all she knows is love. For Christine is past the point of no return. E/C, ONESHOT


**A/N: Hey guys, this is my very first phantom fic, so I hope that you like it! This story occurs when Erik and Christine are singing the Point of No Return, and it is mostly based on ALW musical and the book. Enjoy reading, my lovelies!**

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Heart hammering wildly in her chest, she pushed back the bile she could feel threatening to rise in the back of her throat. She forced herself to saunter onstage, the heavy rich fabric of her dress swishing as she quickly, but in character, walked to her marker.

There, on the stage, she had to forget the name Christine Daaé, for then, she was only Aminta. And she was very good at playing her part.

She fluttered her eyelashes and a coy grin slowly spread across her face as she shined a prop apple on her peach-coloured skirts. Had Erik made this costume for her? He must have, as it was _his_ opera and his vision. This song seemed to be different than the rest of his work. Knowing Erik, he wouldn't have trusted the costume department to turn his vision into reality. The phrase, _if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,_ flashed through her mind. She recalled one day simply seeing the dress in the costume department. When she inquired to someone about who had crafted this magnificent piece, she was met with puzzled faces and an answer of, _to tell you the truth, Mademoiselle, no one knows. It simply appeared this morning with your name on it._ She had been scandalized by the length of the dress. _Heavens_ , you could practically see her whole calf! Still, she had to suppress a smile as she imagined her Angel, dashing, tall, and intimidating in his formal evening wear, hunched over a sewing machine.

 _No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy…_

As if. The worries that she had at that moment were almost overwhelming. How could she think thoughts of joy when the earlier conversation she had been a part of kept replaying in her head, filling her with a sense of dread so great, that she was sure for a moment that she may need to head offstage.

 _We make certain the doors are barred_

 _We make certain our men are there_

 _We make certain they're armed_

 _Armed_. The thought alone of seeing Erik fall to the floor, blood pouring from a wound in his chest, forever staining his crisp white dress shirt, caused a lump to form in the back of her throat.

The managers had been certain that Erik would come that night. Surely, he would.

She hadn't wanted to do this. To draw Erik out from his safe spot. Everyone in charge seemed to not even care of what Christine thought or how she felt about this whole situation. She was simply there to be the bait, the piece of meat to draw the Opera Ghost out and to ensnare him, once and for all. Even Raoul, her fiancé, hadn't cared of what she believed was the right thing to do. She had wept, saying things that weren't entirely true, but words that she knew he would want to hear.

 _Raoul it scares me,_ she had said, _don't put me through this ordeal._

She _was_ scared, but not of Erik harming her. The very _thought_ of that made her inwardly scoff, never mind her reaction when Raoul had hinted at it. She was only scared of what could potentially happen to Erik if he did, in fact, choose to attend tonight. She had prayed, _oh she had prayed to God_ that he wouldn't attend, but she knew deep down that is was useless to hope for such a thing. It seemed unlikely that he would miss the performance of his life's work with Christine in the starring role. She gazed into the audience, scanning his box, especially. It was empty. There wasn't a trace of his stark white mask contrasting with the dark of the interior of the box.

 _Perhaps he heard the plans for tonight and decided that it was too dangerous,_ she thought. _Perhaps_.

She let herself relax. There was no sign of her teacher hiding in the shadows of box five, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the honey-like voice of the tenor filled the Palais Garnier.

Wait.

That was not the voice of Piangi.

She would have known that voice anywhere.

Although he attempted to disguise it with an adopted thick accent, there was no mistaking _that voice_. What the hell was he thinking, showing up, on the stage in the lead role of all places? It couldn't have escaped his knowledge that the entire Opera house was crawling with police officers!

 _God in heaven, Erik…_

Of course she wouldn't give him away and cause a scene. That would just result in unwanted chaos. Worse, it would make him think that she truly was terrified of him.

But wasn't she?

Yes, she was afraid. But it wasn't terror for his face, as he may have believed, only for his outburst at her when she stupidly removed his mask without his permission. Additionally, she was scared of what he would do _for_ her, or in her name. He had made it no secret that he loved her, adored her, worshipped her, even. The extreme jealousy that he had shown toward Raoul proved that enough. Would he kill for her? This attachment towards her should have driven her away, but disturbingly so, it had done just the opposite. She felt herself being drawn to this man of such extreme emotions.

He excited her. With Raoul, she would be cared for and supported, she knew, but would she grow tired and bored of the mundane life of a Vicomtess and Raoul's wife? She knew the answer. Did she love her fiancé? She supposed she did, but if anything, it was barely a fraction of what she felt for Erik. Most overwhelmingly, Erik's music filled her spirit and made her feel things like never before.

 _You have come here_

 _In pursuit of your deepest urge_

 _In pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent_

 _Silent_

Every time he sang, she felt herself being drawn farther and farther into his web. She lost her sense of reality at times, just losing herself in the sound of his voice and letting herself thrive on that sound and that sound alone.

 _In your mind you've already succumbed to me_

 _Dropped all defenses_

 _Completely succumbed to me_

She glanced at him singing to her from across the stage and watched as he walked slowly toward her, his voice seductive and gravelly. Christine realized what a sharp contrast it was to when she had first heard his voice, he being her _Angel of Music_ at the time.

She remembered fondly the way he taught her to sing with the right technique and breathing patterns, the way to annunciate and project while still retaining the emotion of the character that she was portraying. Erik had gently corrected and guided her when there was an improvement to be made and she had listened and responded eagerly, fully trusting him and his direction. But some of her proudest moments were when he had praised her abilities, for when he praised her, he made it sound _like she had put the Sun in the sky._ It was not often that he would compliment her on her efforts, but when he did, she savoured it. To hear such words come from someone whom she admired so greatly, it completed her.

Her _Angel of Music_ had been her guardian in everything. Her confidant. Her best friend. But when had her friendship turned into something more? When had she fallen in love with a voice?

 _Past the point of no return_

 _No backward glances_

 _Our games of make-believe are at an end_

In the months leading up to her debut in _Hannibal_ and his revealing himself to her, she had suspected that he wasn't who he said he was. For surely an angel would have endless patience, while Erik had outbursts and became frustrated with her at times. Understandably, she had been angry when she first considered the possibility that he was only a man. She was angry with him, for deceiving her for so long, and she was angry with herself for being so naïve and letting him draw her in. She did not divulge her suspicions to him, though. She kept it to herself. Despite her initial anger, she slowly began to realize that she truly didn't care who her angel was, for she knew him, and knew that his intentions could not be bad. She even began to welcome the idea of him being a man, someone physically there to interact with and touch and feel.

And then he _had_ revealed himself! He was truly there and she could _see him_ and it brought her so much joy. To feel his hand clasped in her own as he carefully guided her through the passageways, farther and farther underground. To see his strong hands exert themselves as he poled them across the lake to his home, well, it was almost too much for her to bear.

But _oh damn her,_ then she had ripped his mask away without his permission, and doing so, she also ripped away his trust. He thought that she was repulsed by him, but no, in that moment, she was only repulsed with herself. How could she have done something so selfish, something to purely satiate her own curiosity and not think of the consequences that would inevitably follow? In that moment, when she lay on the ground, he, behind her by a few feet clutching his hand to his face and whispering pleas for acceptance, Christine had felt so utterly powerless. What could she possibly do to mend the horrible situation that she had created? She had handed his mask back to him, therefore, handing his shield from the world back to him, and he had pressed it on to his face as quickly as time allowed.

Nothing was the same after that. The balance of their relationship skewed to what he believed was beyond repair, but she wanted so desperately for things to be back to the way they once were. She didn't care the way his face looked! Clearly that was what he must have thought when she ran from him, terrified that night, but her fear wasn't for his face. It never was for his face. He had screamed and ran after her, and _that_ was what had truly frightened her.

 _Damn her, damn her, damn her_ for reacting in such a way.

 _What raging fire shall flood the soul?_

 _What rich desire unlocks its door?_

 _What sweet seduction lies before us?_

Now she sat, Erik beside her on the bench that was positioned in front of the table. The sensual lyrics spun around in her head. Normally she would have been scandalized by the _very_ suggestive innuendos and phrases that _Don Juan_ sang of, and she had been blushing at rehearsals earlier in the week, but this was not a stranger singing to her. This was Erik. And Erik knew her better than anyone.

And truthfully, she did not mind one bit him singing those words to her.

The blocking was another obstacle that had presented itself to her in rehearsals. Slow, graceful movements were directed as Erik had requested of them. Rehearsing with Piangi had been… uncomfortable, to say the least. Piangi was _not_ graceful, as these movements required a person to be. Rather, he was a large, loud, awkward man who did not possess the skills needed in order to play this challenging role.

In fact, the more that she thought about it, the movements and actions that the notes included in the score entailed were not in the skillset of any tenor in Paris. Except one, of course. Before the show, when she had been thinking about her upcoming performance and what she would need to do, he was the only one that she could visualize acting and singing alongside her. And _yes_ , she had been thinking about him. She had been thinking about him touching her in that way and singing those lyrics to her. She would never, never admit that out loud, but she wanted him to touch her. Skin to skin. Whenever she was around him, everything was always covered. Even his hands. She had always longed to touch his calloused palms and the pads of his fingers. She knew that it was sinful to think of such things, and _oh_ , she would pray to God for forgiveness later, but as of now, Erik was so very close to her, and all she could focus on was his heavy breathing beside her.

 _Past the point of no return_

 _The final threshold_

 _What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?_

 _Beyond the point of no return_

She shivered, gooseflesh along with thin, pale hairs raising on her arms where his skin made contact with hers. She reached for his face which was hidden beneath the dark cloak. She wanted him to know that she knew it was him and that she wasn't afraid of him. She didn't want him to forever think that she was frightened of him, but she suspected that he would always think this, due to her outrageous actions on the roof of the Opera that fateful night.

She had sprinted up to the roof of the Opera, Raoul trailing behind her. And then, she had begun to prattle on and on about her fear of the Phantom of the Opera. To Raoul! She truly was nothing but a foolish girl. She supposed that she had been quite frightened when she caught a glimpse of the stagehand, Buquet's unmoving body. She was sure that he had been killed by Erik – and had run away like a child, subsequently hiding in the arms of her childhood friend. He had to have had a god reason to kill this man, and he knew it now, but then, the only thing that occupied her thoughts was fear. To think that Erik would ever try to harm her was preposterous; she knew that now, of course. But back then, at that particular moment, she was simply incapable of seeing reason.

 _Don't take me back there_ , she'd whispered like she was mad. _His eyes will find me there, those eyes that burn._

And then – oh how it pained her to even recollect on it – she had spoken of his face. Such a betrayal on her behalf!

 _Can I ever escape from that face? So distorted, deformed,_ she sobbed, _it was hardly a face in that darkness._

She was spouting non-sensical words, she knew even then. As she calmed down from her initial hysteria, she began to recall when she went to his home, and the peace she felt there, along with other feelings, the likes of which she had never experienced before.

 _But his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound._

But of course, following that, Raoul had declared his love for her, and, caught _very_ off guard by this sudden declaration, she had half-heartedly stated her feelings to him.

She should have known that _he_ was there. Listening to them.

 _Watching_ her kiss and hug him.

That was truly the worst kind of betrayal.

And then she had not seen or heard from her Angel of Music for half of a year, and by the time she did see him, she was already trapped in an engagement that she did not necessarily want to be in. After the _Ball Masque_ she had wept and sobbed, and Raoul, the ignorant boy, had assumed once again that it was due to the fact that she was afraid of the Phantom of the Opera. She longed to say to him, _insolent boy! I'm not afraid of this masked man. On the contrary, I find myself to be rather in love with him_.

Christine Daae was in love with the Phantom of the Opera. Now, she only had to prove how she felt.

As she reached for his face, she saw him cringe away from her touch, his voice quavering a bit. Sighing, she briskly walked to the opposite side of the stage.

 _Well,_ she thought, _game on, Angel._

 _You have brought me_

 _To that moment where words run dry_

 _To that moment where speech disappears into silence_

 _Silence_

She glanced over at him and smiled sweetly. She wished she could see his face.

 _Now I am here with you_

 _No second thoughts_

 _I've decided_

 _Decided_

How true those words rang to her. She desperately, desperately wished that she could only drop this façade of Don Juan and Aminta and run off the stage, pulling him behind her, away from the rifles of the policemen watching their every move. Of course, everyone aside from her still probably believed Erik to be Piangi, with him having imitated his voice so well.

Taking a deep breath, she began to sing.

 _Past the point of no return_

 _No going back now_

 _Our passion play has now at last begun_

As she sang, she realized that she was no longer in character. Yes, the words that were being sung were written for a certain character feeling certain emotions, but _Christine_ was feeling the same feelings as Aminta was crafted to have. _His_ music, _his_ voice, _his_ spirit and guidance had seduced her from the beginning. She realized with a start that, before, he had had her mind and spirit, without a doubt. But now, he had control of her bodily desires. She was so incredibly drawn to him, and even felt as though she was in a trance around him. She felt like screaming, _do with me what you wish, for every part of me is yours._

 _Since you seem to have seduced me, Monsieur,_ she thought, _it is only fair to return the favour._ She smiled wickedly in his direction and began to saunter over to him, swaying her hips, playing her role perfectly.

 _Past all thought of right or wrong_

 _One final question_

 _How long should we two wait before we're one?_

Singing these lines, she walked behind where he sat on the bench, sliding her hands seductively and slowly down his back before quickly grabbing his hands before he had time to pull away. When she placed her hands in his, it was like electricity. Without his gloves, their hands fit so perfectly together it was as if they were specifically molded to fit each other's.

 _When will the blood begin to race?_

 _The sleeping bud burst into bloom?_

Hands entwined, she swooped their hands downward, her body brushing against his. Her voice was powerful with her newfound confidence, her movements long and graceful; everything about her exuded confidence, and yet, here she was still shivering at the very proximity of Erik.

 _When will the flames at last consume us?_

At this, she brushed the left side of her face against the masked right side of his, and feeling the hard porcelain instead of soft skin, she jumped, startled. However, what was really only a moment of her being taken by surprise, Erik took as a moment of panic and her "realization." Feeling his hard gaze on her, she backed away, but Erik reached out and grabbed both of her wrists, holding them tightly. He pulled her across to centre stage, all the while the both of them singing the final fiery chorus.

 _Past the point of no return_

 _The final threshold_

 _The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn_

She wrenched her hands from his grip and stepped back a few spaces, just daring him to come closer. And come closer to her he did.

 _We've passed the point of no return_

Singing the final syllable, she reached up, taking the hood of his cloak into her hands and pulling it quickly up away from his face. Hearing quiet exclamations of shock and surprise, she still stood her ground, looking into Erik's eyes. _I'm here,_ she seemed to say without words, _and I am not going anywhere._ He just seemed to be puzzled that she didn't seem to be afraid of him at all. Instead of the wide eyes and gaping mouth that he had expected to see, there was almost a look of quiet amusement present on her face. She saw him turn away from her, she supposed to run, but he hesitated and stood rooted in place.

 _Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime_

She froze. Those words _._ Words of her betrayal of him. _Oh, Erik._ A lump in her throat expanded more and more and the tears gathering in her eyes spilled down her cheeks.

 _Lead me, save me from my solitude_

He turned toward her now, the look in his eyes tearing her soul almost in two. She nodded desperately, locking his gaze with hers. The words having been altered to fit just right, the words now rang true and she felt like confessing her love at the top of her lungs.

 _Say you want me with you here, beside you_

She saw him remove the ring that always resided on his small finger and hold it up in the air, examining it. He took several large steps toward her, his voice swarming her senses and causing more tears to fall from her eyes.

 _Anywhere you go, let me go too_

 _Christine, that's all I ask of you_

She watched his hands as he placed the ring on the appropriate finger of her left hand. She looked down at the ring on her finger and then up at him. Who was she to deny him?

She placed her hands on either side of his face. She said this so very softly to him.

"Take me away, Erik."

He quietly gasped.

He took her into his arms.

And they blissfully descended into the darkness.

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 **A/N: I hope you liked it! Lots of love! Don't forget to review :)**


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